Way Past Midnight
by Kaiyote
Summary: “I could love you. I know I could love you now.” Incest, Slash. See Author's Note.


**If you want to read a better-formatted version, please go to my Fanfiction Livejournal _theblackmonster._**

**A/N:** To explain and everything so this fic makes more sense. Peter has died, Nathan is angsting over it. The whole _Peter has died_ part would take place sometime _before_ this fic does.

Also, the fic is definitely set sometime after _Don't Look Back_ takes place, so if you haven't seen the very _end_ of the episode this would probably be spoiler-ish.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Heroes.

**Warnings: **Incest, which means Nathan/Peter. Character Death, but it's only implied. So, if that freaks you out, then please, don't read this. I really don't want to freak you out.

**Way Past Midnight**

* * *

_November 7th. 11:59:01 PM._

Nathan can hear the second hand of his watch ticking, and the only thing he's waiting for anymore is for the world to end.

_November 8th. 12:00:01 AM._

The world outside is dark, the moon and stars are not visible from the window, and the only thing that can be heard outside of the room are the muffled sounds of life coming from the streets below. The world does not end.

Not yet, anyway.

_12:01:01 AM._

For all Nathan cares or knows, the world already ended days ago.

* * *

November 8th comes and goes in starts and fits of sleep, bottles of alcohol, and the shadows that move slowly across the room in the daylight. From the daylight comes the dark, and the stars and moon appear from outside the window.

The phone rings almost non-stop for most of the day and almost all of the night, and Nathan doesn't bother to answer it. There is nothing he would care to hear from anyone anymore. He doesn't care for _anything_ anymore.

The election, whatever remains of his family, his powers. The world.

Nathan no longer cares for anything, and the one thing he could care about _now_ is already dead and gone.

The phone finally stops ringing at 11:59:56 PM, and Nathan looks to his watch as the last seconds of November 8th tick away from him. The only thing left to do now is watch the time pass by him as the night fades away.

_12:00:00._

The world keeps moving on, and Nathan wishes everything would just stop.

* * *

Nathan is more drunk than he's ever been in his entire life.

If Nathan could close his eyes and concentrate hard enough, block all the noises and the thoughts that try to invade his mind, he could almost feel Peter sitting next to him. Lying next to him, and he can almost feel a hand ghost through his hair.

That hand trailing down, coming to rest on the side of his face.

He can see Peter then, with his eyes closed, lying in the bed. Peter lying on his side, and Peter leans forward, and Nathan can _feel_ the breath on his cheek. The way Peter looks at him and the color of his eyes as he leans down to-

The phone rings once more and seconds later it's only shattered pieces on the floor.

Nathan opens his eyes, almost expects Peter to be looking at him with an odd expression on his face. Silently saying to him with that expression: _The phone never did anything to you, you know._ But Peter is not next to him.

Peter is gone.

November 9th, and Peter was never there in the first place.

* * *

The 10th and 11th pass without his knowledge of them doing so.

All of the days bleed together anyway.

Sometime during the night of the 10th he closes the blinds, the passing and movement of life and the world occurring outside of the window angering him more than he knew it should have. The people outside did not deserve this. He didn't even deserve this.

The _world_ did not deserve this.

The world was meant to end.

It had not.

* * *

On the afternoon of the 12th his watch joins the pieces of the phone on the ground.

The morning was spent ignoring the pounding on the door from his mother and ignoring the way her voice was cracking as she spoke to him, telling him to come out of the room. Ignoring her, even though her voice was a bit muffled through the door, as she spoke of Peter.

Of how Peter was _gone._

The pounding had stopped then, and Nathan could almost hear his mothers shoes clicking against the floor as she left, not wanting to deal with his _insanity_, as she had called it.

After he was sure she had left, Nathan had thrown the watch against the wall, almost at the exact same spot as he had thrown the phone, and the sounding of cracking glass had filled his ears for hours after he had destroyed it.

The room grows dark quickly with no reference of time or of the view of the world outside the room. With no connections to anything or anyone it no longer matters if it's even passing him by.

Peter, _the world_ is gone.

November 12th, and there is only himself and the room.

* * *

He wakes on the 13th to find the sun and the light in the room quickly fading away. There are no memories in his mind of the night before, or the morning or even of the afternoon.

Though there is definitely a growing number of bottles occupying the room than there had been before.

Nathan closes his eyes for only a brief amount of time, and when he opens them again the room is completely dark. There is no hint of light in the room or showing through the blinds at all.

He glances towards the blinds once more, and there is a darker shape there, standing in front of the them. Although there is no light in the room, he can tell the figure in front of him is facing away from him.

Facing towards the world that he no longer cares to see.

_"Peter?"_

His voice cracks at the name, and he closes his eyes. The room is silent for the most part. The only thing he can hear is the sound of his own heart beating and the sound of his breath in the darkness.

_You're falling apart, Nathan._

If he could manage he would open his eyes, search for Peter in the darkness of the room, but he does not. More _cannot_ than anything else, but then there is a whisper of _You don't need to open your eyes, just go back to sleep._

He can feel the ghost of a touch once again. A soft feeling of lips gently pressing into his.

For the first time in his life, he listens to Peter, and consciousness drifts away slowly. His lips form words then, something like _be here, will you be here?_ The room is still silent, despite everything.

As everything eventually leaves him, he can feel a whisper of a promise come from Peter.

_I will._

* * *

A dull light surrounds the room when he blinks open his eyes on the 14th. The room is quieter and calmer than anytime it had been before, and Nathan can tell that the dull light only signifies that it is morning.

For a brief moment in the morning light he remembers nothing.

None of the events of the past weeks filter into his mind, and for just a brief, brief moment there is a sense of peace there. In the lack of knowledge there is a sense that nothing has gone horribly wrong.

Slowly the thoughts and knowledge return, though, and as the memories of the night before enter his mind, Nathan sits up, quickly. The sheets of the bed tangle with his legs as he tries to get up, find Peter, because he _had_ been there.

A small sound of laughter draws his attention towards the blinds that still cover the window, that block out most of the light trying to make it's way into the room, and it's _Peter_ standing there. _Peter._

Facing away from him as he had been last night. Facing towards the world.

Facing towards the light.

_"I must be going crazy."_

There is the sound of laughter again, and Peter turns away from the window and towards him. Peter still looks like _Peter_, and Nathan's breath catches in his throat as Peter smiles at him. This is Peter.

_This_ is _Peter_.

_I think you probably went off the deep end awhile ago._

Peter frowns as he gestures towards the room with his hand, and Nathan closes his eyes at the movement. The movements Peter makes are dizzying at best, and remind him of flashes of lightning.

He opens his eyes and Peter is still frowning at him, but Peter moves then. Faster than anything he could've expected, and Peter is sitting on the bed next to him.

Nathan reaches out to touch him, but Peter shakes his head, moves to the side to avoid making contact with him. He leaves his hand in the air where Peter should have been, let's it fall slowly to his side.

_It'll get dark soon._

He glances towards the blinds and back at Peter, but Peter only nods at the blinds once again, and Nathan keeps his focus there. He wants nothing more to look at Peter, _touch_ Peter.

To Nathan, it seems that Peter wants him to do anything _but_ that.

_"It's too late, isn't it?"_

_For some things it is, for others it doesn't have to be._

He sighs then, glances at Peter, but Peter isn't looking at him. The only thing Nathan can see Peter looking at is the blinds. The light, the people, everything that still exists. Still moves in the world.

Everything that hasn't faded away.

_"Stay."_

_I can't._

Peter touches his hand then, but never looks at him. Peter's hand feels cold against his own, almost like a small breeze against his hand than anything else. Almost as if Peter were never even there at all.

Nathan only grips Peter's hand tighter.

_"I could love you. I know I could love you now."_

The only response Peter gives him is a small, sad smile.

_I know you could._

Peter stands then, and Nathan feels his hand slip right through Peter's. He moves towards the window, but the movements are not the same as they had been before. He moves slowly, like he's wading through a pool, walking through water to get to it.

_Close your eyes, Nathan._

Nathan does so.

_You should really open these. Let some light into the room._

* * *

He opens his eyes much later, and he knows Peter is gone. He takes his time getting off the bed, moves almost as slowly as Peter had towards the window. He stares out of the window, although the blinds are still not open, he can see the light fading away.

November 14th, and Peter is really gone.

* * *

He stands at the window, and the darkness slowly turns into morning light. The sun is rising, and the darkness is fading away. This close to the outside world, and he can feel the people on the streets below. Living.

_November 15th._

Nathan opens the blinds.


End file.
